" "Not if it will hurt her. ” “Oh!” he said, in a colorless tone, and with his eyes on her face. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape.
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