The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. ’ Melusine looked from his coarse red features to the pistol, and froze inside as she recognised his intention. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition.
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