She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. ‘Well then, Melusine,’ he said calmly, ‘it seems as if we must get you your dowry willy-nilly. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully.
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