While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room, with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and before he could call out to prevent it, a man was admitted into the passage. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. She was not Madame Melusine Valade. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. It was so hopeless to put it to them.
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