‘Now then, my girl, why the long face?’ Melusine had no hesitation in placing her trouble before her old nurse, for it was Martha who had made her aware of her true history. In short, more preparations were made than if a state criminal was about to be executed. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head.
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