“That was a moment of madness,” she said. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. I’ll kill you, Sheila, and I’ll kill her too. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience.
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