He scratched his upper lip reflectively. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. 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. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them.
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