The weed was all right. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. ’ There was satisfaction in Melusine’s voice. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching.
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