9. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. “Difficulties indeed. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. I can never be grateful enough. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully.
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