’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. He stepped out but, rather to his surprise, found Melusine following him. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. I'm burning up.
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