‘I try to be. ’ ‘But—’ ‘Do not argue with me, but go at once,’ ordered Melusine swiftly, taking a high tone intended to subdue the independent spirit Kimble had lately shown himself to possess. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not.
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