She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. "Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. “All the time he is shouting and muttering. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. .
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