“You let him touch you!” John whispered back. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. " "Come, come, Captain," remonstrated Blueskin. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. “You’re wanted for questioning, miss. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked.
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