He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. . ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. ’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. She has given herself up to social work. In vain Wood protested his innocence. " "I'll have no explanations whatever," replied the carpenter, disdainfully, "except before a magistrate.
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