“Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. Suddenly he understood what had happened.
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