’ ‘Where, then?’ Melusine asked again. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent.
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