A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. “The fellow seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in Paris. Lady Palsworthy liked Ann Veronica because she was never awkward, had steady eyes, and an almost invariable neatness and dignity in her clothes. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War.
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