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. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. It was fastened inside. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. "How?" cried her brother, starting. Mrs. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way. But now you must be quiet; there's been too much excitement.
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