’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. . ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. What do you mean by it, eh?’ ‘But I did not send it to you,’ Melusine rejoined instantly. " He departed, musing. Fast.
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