Her eyes flashed and she withdrew the dagger, pulling away from him. But it is the truth. 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. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. They would arrive sometime in June.
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