She was not Madame Melusine Valade. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her.
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