She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. This way there will be not so much shame, and the vicomte will let them remain. Yet I think that he will do it. ” Michelle shrugged. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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