Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. III. She and John were able to see each other many times and spent long romantic winter afternoons together. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy.
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