Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. ‘How do you like England?’ ‘People have been very kind,’ Valade said, answering for them both. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. They were hailed as celebrities, the three of them. 1.
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