“I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. “You can say what you have to say before Mr. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance.
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