"If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand. It was quite dark; but as some of the assemblage carried links, it was soon ascertained to be headed by the same party who had mainly incited the former disturbance.
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