Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. She examined Michelle’s pale face. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. ‘Tell me the truth, Melusine. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. E below.
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