Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church.
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