‘I allow anyone in. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. ‘You’ll make shadows.
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