Softly she rose to her feet. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. A boy like John’s dashing friend David Mitchell, someone who shares your love of academics. "I yield to fate. ’ While he trod a deliberate path through the pink saloon towards the door, Gerald encouraged a flow of harmless chatter about the people Madame had met and the parties she had attended.
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