And she had not dressed herself in this habit of a blue so much like the sky just for his sake, no matter that Lucy had said how much this colour suited with her eyes. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended.
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