His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities.
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