’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. “He is not—I don’t like him. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society.
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