But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. Why did I not realise it at once? It just shows how one should not judge by appearances. How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. ” She turned a firelit face to her husband.
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