The doctor had sown a seed, carelessly. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. But she had spent nearly half of it, and had no conception of how such a sum could be made good again.
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