"You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. . ’ ‘Yes, do so,’ rejoined Melusine enthusiastically. The boy’s besotted. He never felt any need to explain himself. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern.
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