“How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. ” He moved himself from the recliner to the couch and patted a cushion. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness. Lord, but it was a nun! Just as he had suspected. But the great point was still unaccomplished.
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