It shall be your wedding ring. ’ The familiar hollow opened up inside Melusine’s chest, and she could not prevent the husky note that entered her voice. Cathy's eyebrows perked up. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. I love you calling me Gérard and idiot, and I love you when you threaten me with every weapon under the sun, and—’ ‘Pah!’ interrupted Melusine, scorn in her voice. ‘What would you do in Valade’s place?’ ‘You mean, knowing that the girl was here and liable to queer my pitch?’ ‘Precisely.
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