She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. I won't give him a chance. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders.
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