’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right. ‘Yes, do,’ approved Lucilla. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. P.
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