He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. But tell her this, too. “In Paris. ’ ‘It is money you mean, no?’ Melusine asked with scorn.
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