"I can't say I do," replied Wood. ’ ‘So you think she is an émigré?’ Lucilla put in before the incensed Roding could respond. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes.
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