’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. It was among artistic people. I wonder if some of them did—and it didn’t get reported. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. ‘Come, mademoiselle. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. There were two. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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