"That's your hunting ground," said the doctor. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. She shrugged her shoulders. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. " "So he is," returned Jack; "but there's no saying how long he may remain so.
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