She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris. It would be the culmination of her plan. ‘For that, I must conceal that I also have enjoyed the kiss. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. ‘I must, for that the pig has already gone to monsieur le baron.
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