” 209 Clotilde was no fool. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted. “I feel like a giant! I believe now I shall do great things. There never is much left for me. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. The end of the world seemed at hand. 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. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her.
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