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I had left Paris. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone.
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