He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. Not I. He looked the boy over with interest. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald.
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