‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly. Everything was going to hell. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. "I had no thought of injuring your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime.
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