The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. Sheppard, bitterly. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland.
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