A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. ‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald told you all that. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape.
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