“Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head.
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