Upon the steps leading to the gates of the church stood two persons whom Jack instantly recognised. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. ’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye.
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