’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. She continued to fan herself. A fortnight passed, then a month. “I am not in need of any. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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