It was impulsive and natural. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. She had just this moment past told him that Monsieur Valade came to her after the tragedy, to the convent, from where he married her and brought her to England. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. ” “This,” Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, “reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen.
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