’ Melusine spread her hands and sighed. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion.
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