And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. I don’t wish to marry you at all. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth.
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