They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. Would to God I had. She turned up dead after about eight weeks and it broke my heart. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare. By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist.
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