‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. ’ ‘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. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. It would hurt no one. ‘And nor do I. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on.
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