” For a fraction of a second the two young men hesitated. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. ‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. I wish very much that you had written before leaving Paris. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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