Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. It fell with a clatter to the floor. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. ‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. ‘You know what I am about,’ exclaimed Melusine impatiently. He lives near the Black Lion.
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