’ Chapter Six Creeping along the dark narrow passage, with lantern held well ahead to keep her step steady on the uneven stones—and to warn her of the advent of rats— Melusine kept her long petticoats fastidiously clear of the dirt with an efficient hand, a habit she had learned in the convent. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. At noon the doctor himself arrived. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. She would have to move on to a more lawless country soon, Mexico, Columbia, then cross the sea where she could eventually return to the chaos of Eastern Europe and the Russias. " "Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting; "you'll recollect me by and by, I've no doubt. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. ” He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches.
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