She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. “It was perhaps my fault. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm.
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