“Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. "Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland!" cried the attendant. Directly he saw Anna he accosted her. My death, probably. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. Wood. ’ Melusine fought down the raw emotion that threatened to overwhelm her and drew a steadying breath.
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