"I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must
be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. “Oh Christ! How old were you?”
“Just—well, I was young. ‘Very well, then. “Yes. ‘The poor girl was thrust into a convent to
become a nun. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac,
and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. ‘You think
my father would not have married Suzanne if he had known? Me, I do not agree. I love you calling me Gérard and
idiot, and I love you when you threaten me with every weapon under the sun,
and—’
‘Pah!’ interrupted Melusine, scorn in her voice. ‘Where the devil have you been?’
‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. This gloom was
impossible. ”
“What do you want?” he asked, bluntly.
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