Her efforts were vain. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. "Austin will stare," thought Jack, "when he comes here in the morning. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. But it was generally unused, and so was a suitable spot for these secret meetings, when Melusine plotted and delivered her instructions to Jack Kimble. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver.
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