‘Parbleu, the bullet is still inside you,’ Melusine guessed, remembering how the Mother Abbess had diagnosed Leonardo’s suffering when he had first come to the convent. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. I swear it. In a flash, Melusine had jumped forward and clamped it to the floor with one booted foot.
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