Melusine sighed with frustration. She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons. "Again," cried Jonathan, sternly: "beware!" "What!" vociferated Trenchard. But I must summon my janizaries. I do not desire to extenuate my guilt—far less to defend it; but I would show you, and such as you —who, happily, are exempted from trials like mine—how much misery has to do with crime. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. That, I think, is manifest. CHAPTER XVII.
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