’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. To die intestate was unforgiveably irresponsible. Love lives on a higher plane. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch.
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