‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. Or else he was indeed obsessed. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. ” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side.
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