“For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. She cocked her head. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully.
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