It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. He sprung out of the driver’s side and ran to her door. E. ‘Espéce de diable,’ she screamed. ‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them.
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