" And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. He got up brusquely. Melusine gave herself a little mental shake. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. One of the reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy's punishment will be enough.
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