She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. Yet I shall think of you to-day. Her father’s step quickened to a trot.
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