Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. "Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards Sir Rowland. " Half an hour later she laid aside the book. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. And I think I must pursue my acquaintance with the fulsome Madame Valade. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Old pupil. Michelle seemed so innocent and sweet. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness.
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