Melusine sighed with frustration. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. Fifty pupils. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine.
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