“—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide.
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