’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. He had forgiven everybody. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. He scooped up Michelle’s unconscious body. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. ‘That will be a matter for her future husband to decide.
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