Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. "We're forgetting," he said. He stood still, almost breathless. With Jack so badly injured, how would she get him home? How get herself home, now that Trodger had arrested her. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience.
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