She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. Detention was merry for the other detainees. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared.
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