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Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. ’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. ” “I didn’t mind that little argument. .
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