A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. He had something across his knees. . ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. "I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you.
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