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. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. ‘I am extremely displeased. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. “Your mother was a Gypsy.
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