“It was the night you left Paris. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute. ’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language.
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