‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. So frightful, indeed, were the ravages of this malady, to which debtors and felons were alike exposed, that its miserable victims were frequently carried out by cart-loads, and thrown into a pit in the burial-ground of Christ-church, without ceremony. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. .
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