The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card. Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her cheeks. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her.
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