‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. He would take with him that traitress Yolande, and claim to the lawyer that this was Melusine Charvill. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. ‘That is true,’ Melusine conceded. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply.
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