A quick flush stained her cheeks. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. The odd creak was not to be avoided in an old house such as this. . Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. The boy she had loved was gone. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling.
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