It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. I haven’t, anyhow. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet. He saw Enschede, making the empty sea, alone, alone, forever alone.
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