’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. ‘And I do not know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have taken my dagger. "And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs.
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