"I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. . There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. Then Melusine jumped back into the fencer’s pose, on guard, the point of the wicked blade directed towards her enemy. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off.
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