‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. Although Melusine had taken care to trouble herself about the hand she had cut, and was glad to find it healing very well. ’ ‘A pretty tale. He saw now that it was merely a boy. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred.
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