—'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I. She refused to sleep in the same room with him one night, kicking him in the shins. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up.
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