‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. He groaned, much to Melusine’s relief. Supposing you fetch what you can, and if you will allow me, I will see you off. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome.
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