So I made haste and recovered. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. "What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. ’ ‘You mean monsieur le baron, the General Charvill, my grandfather?’ Melusine laid aside on the table the letter she had been studying and turned so that the frame of her nun’s wimple no longer obscured her view. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. All right! I’m off. She still had her letter of credit.
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