“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard. “I suppose, daddy, you’ve no objection to my going on with my work at the Imperial College?” she asked. 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. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. ’ Of which Melusine was only too well aware, for her stepmother had done nothing to save her from the convent. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all.
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