Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. ’ Quick remorse raced through Melusine’s veins, but she hit back strongly. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. She looked at him mournfully.
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