Lucy's grin faded. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. You Americans laugh at our custom of honouring our ancestors, our many-times great grandfathers.
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