She threw her arms around Rollo's neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. *** From the corner of her eye, Melusine saw Gerald move towards her and she turned to confront him, the confused turmoil in her mind causing her chest to tighten unbearably.
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