. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. ’ Melusine did not forget. ‘Signed by a priest at Le Havre, so it must be true.
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