She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. " "Curse on, and welcome," jeered Wild. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again.
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