She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. For a long time neither spoke again. “You need not be alarmed,” he said.
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