They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. ‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide.
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