1. "You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jackson, coldly. 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. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. Clergymen were human. “That is where I got confused,” he said. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. Jack turned away with an aching heart. And so your Melusine is busy trying to prove that she is the real one. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream.
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