I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. ’ ‘Was it yours?’ Insulted beyond bearing, Melusine lost her temper. ‘That’s just it. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. You care for me just a little, I know. ‘Never fear, my love. ‘This is not love, Marthe.
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