She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. "Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. "I disown you.
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