. ’ ‘Gone off?’ repeated Melusine, her wrongs rising up to tear into her chest. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid.
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