"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. In the afternoon she had considered certain doubts very carefully, and decided on a more emphatic course of action. ’ ‘Where, then?’ Melusine asked again. ’ Gerald was relieved to hear the loud guffaw issuing from the old man’s lips. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless.
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