‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. You’ll end there one day, mark my words. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. The policeman raised his voice, slightly agitated. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly.
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