From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. "No; it's only a fresh gale," Ben returned: "hark! now it comes.
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