‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. “All right, Dunster,” he said. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt.
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