She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. Melusine was unable to repulse him—even had she tried. " "They are useless," she returned. "Put your arms about me.
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