"My sight is failing me. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. ’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. Capes came back into her mind. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in.
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