Emile Gosse must know his only chance was to be rid of Melusine. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. “And now, look at us! See what we have become. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. All that she had ever loved were gone, except Sebastian.
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