My nerves were in rags. Montressor’s guests were. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. Melusine ripped strips off her under-petticoats and fashioned a pad, which she bandaged as tightly as she could over the wound, working swiftly, unperturbed by the gore.
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