Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. It is bad policy. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell.
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