’ ‘But that would make her half French,’ Hilary pointed out. He stood still, almost breathless. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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