We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. . A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore.
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