I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. ‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife.
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