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‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. “If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. . ” “It is very nice of you,” Anna said softly.
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