As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. His attention was focused on Melusine’s transfixed stare and he forgot to say any of the things he had planned to say. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. There was. Men usually do. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. Before morning, unless, we can effect an escape, you'll be kidnapped, or murdered, and your disappearance attributed to the negligence of the constable. Three little letters can’t make a bit of difference.
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