"You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. She chose to hold her nose. Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede.
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