‘I can see why you lost your place, young Kimble. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. "You have forgotten your knife, Mr.
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