‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Have you not given your life to God? Do you not repent?’ Coming to the bed, Melusine sat beside her old nurse and took hold of one of her hands. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered.
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