Be frank, I beg you, Miss Pellissier. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. I do not think that he has quite got over his surprise at finding you established here.
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