‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. "Have you got Jonathan out of the way?" he asked, in an eager whisper. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. ’ ‘Do not hope it,’ returned Melusine, snapping uncontrollably. If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy.
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