Come to take leave. I am. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. ‘They cannot be worse than mine in English, monsieur. She was finally dead, going to Hell. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. You have been her guardian angel. ” She agreed. The latch had not fully caught. And this is not France, you understand. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace.
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