Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once.
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