. . ’ Melusine sat slowly down again, looking him over thoughtfully. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. Spurlock advanced, the censer swung high. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. At the Palazzo, the cook’s cook had a team of servants under him.
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