" "You would purchase it at the price of your head," replied Jonathan, knitting his brows. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. “You fill me with happiness, John. ’ ‘No, and I do not wish to do so,’ Melusine pointed out. I am loved.
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