We must always move on. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. Conscientious objectors to that process are not permitted, she found, in Canongate. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. ’ ‘Exactement.
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