“Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. "Your uncle must protect you. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. She was mentally transported for an instant to the old castle in Herculis. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg.
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