She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. . “Think of that check you endorsed. That Frenchie, that’s who she is. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing.
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