’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. “I’m going to talk of indifferent themes,” said Ramage, a little fussily, “until these interruptions of the service are over. I have always been lonely. Never sent for the shirt.
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