Shocked, Melusine shot out of that blanketing warmth of sensation. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face.
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