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’ 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. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him. "Do you still refuse to make one!" "I have made one," replied Lady Trafford. It's as well to be on the safe side. Michelle looked like she was about to throw up herself. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue.
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