“What is the good of talking?” said her brother. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. ’ ‘You can arrest me,’ answered Kimble belligerently, ‘but you can’t make me say nothing about her. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered.
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