For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. He was six blocks away from his home, a ten story building apparently made solely of glass. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. She drew a breath, and sighed it out.
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