It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. ‘As to that, I am at this moment altogether displeased with Gérard, you understand,’ Melusine temporised.
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