He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words.
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