’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. Wood heard the cry. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. "See her I will. . Jests are not for seasons like this. Already the seed of a tender dream was stirring.
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