' So I go to Patagonia. ‘That’s just it. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ‘Very well,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. I'll tote it myself. ‘No, you don’t. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth.
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