” The sensation produced was gratifying enough. "Not I," replied Blueskin. ’ They passed through a little antechamber, and Melusine sighed with relief as she entered the library next door. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Besides, she had admitted her identity. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search.
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