‘A thing Marthe told me of,’ Melusine answered, her attention on the garments that were still lying higgledy-piggledy, just as she had left them. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted composure.
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