. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. And with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl.
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