It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. But this was a vicomte’s sister. ‘Long enough for you to see Frith for me. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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