‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. I was grateful. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion.
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