\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. “It’s about forty pounds. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. She's plenty clean below. ’ Melusine heard a note of triumph in his voice and turned, a questioning look in her face.
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