She had but to choose. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. ” “You’ll make me look a fool before all my friends. You may go back, Marthe.
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