. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. When I am angry, I can get very mean. The watch was again consulted. At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. She needed to protect the baby. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind.
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