A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. ’ ‘You were always someone, Melusine. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. "One of us has got to die," he panted. He patted the hand on his sleeve.
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