" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. Remember what the conjuror said. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. ‘Why, that’s it. "But bring your glim this way. Melusine sighed with relief and set to work by the light of the lantern.
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