But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. ‘But it is entirely natural that I choose my own country.
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