He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her.
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