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"I must go. I keep on thinking of you. ‘You’ll come with us and get yourself safe back home to your convent, understand?’ ‘But wait,’ begged Melusine, hanging back. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. I believe I’m in love. ” She pressed her ear to the door. “Really?” “Would not let it go.
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