‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. You must have figured that out by now. “Is it your maid?” he asked. For two years he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watchfulness over Aliva.
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