‘Her name is Melusine Charvill,’ Gerald began. A true nun. ‘I suppose this is the cavalier you had with you when you—er—attended the ball the other night?’ ‘Jacques is very useful to me,’ Melusine confirmed, bestowing that same radiant smile on the young man, whose features were instantly suffused with scarlet. ‘Ha! Just the person I want. I'll try to fill in the gaps. His jawline was 78 masculine and severe, only tempered by the soft hazy color of his eyes. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Her faith in human beings revived. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor.
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