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. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally. " "Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private. There it is—against you.
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