" He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. "So has the butterfly evil thoughts. ‘But can you? You don’t know Melusine for Mary Remenham’s daughter, any more than I do. I have an idea that you are in some sort of trouble. Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour without being sensible of fatigue, though he was half stifled by the clouds of dust which his exertions raised, he had made a hole about three feet wide, and six high, and uncovered the iron bar. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. Another horseman followed quickly at the heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed missed its footing, and fell. He stood still, almost breathless.
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