The militia were in already. I went at last when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Melusine was unable to repulse him—even had she tried. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. Such pretty manners, she thought.
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