He then spoke with a certain fatherly kindliness of the past. ‘Tell me the truth, Melusine. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. ” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind.
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