The Pursuit 425 XXV. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. There was no rush. ‘What’s this? Impertinence! French manners, is it?’ ‘Grace à vous,’ Melusine threw at him fiercely. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. She would just have to show up and hope for the best.
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