“Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. Then Valade—was the man as big a fool as Nicholas?—tried again. 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.
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