Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. While he was thus employed a farming man came into the barn. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. "You poor child!" said Prudence.
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