The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. ’ Melusine could not suppress a smile. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. This is a noted place for highwaymen. But, answer me.
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