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I beg that you will consider me your friend. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis.

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