‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. I hope in a few days, Miss Pellissier, that these posters will be livening up our London hoardings. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience.
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