“Steady on!” he cried. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. “Want one?” Michelle deadpanned. . The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song.
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