He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. Briefly, with a careless wave towards the couple, the comtesse presented them as Monsieur and Madame Valade. “You won’t give me away, Anna. Her shoulders began to ache. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. ‘You’d do the same.
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