She could feel her face turning beet red. "You are all right?"—anxiously. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. Monsieur Charvill, he is also my cousin. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed.
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