Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. ‘Grace à vous, I am compelled to rescue myself. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard.
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