He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. ” Pause.
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