Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself.
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