"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. Monsieur Charvill, he is also my cousin. She told us that it was a disguise. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. It interwove with her biological work. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. With thinly veiled glee, Michelle described a rumor she had heard about John at a recent party. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. ‘I don’t want him having an apoplexy in this house.
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