And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. “You are beautiful, Lucy. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. No surprise, for Melusine was aware no Frenchman in his situation would dream of walking abroad unarmed.
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