’ ‘Nonsense,’ said Mrs Sindlesham loudly, casting an anxious glance upon Melusine. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. This year—I’ve got it badly.
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