d when morning came she lay in a restless doze, haunted by ridiculous and unpleasant dreams. It doesn't matter. She saw the man on the floor, grinning no longer, the mauve tint below his eyes now colouring his whole face. Perhaps you realise now that Madeleine was ill because Pierre had attacked her.
She gasped with pain. Sometimes people see something in me that they think they can love. Um—I'm not awfully good at this romantic stuff, so we'll just, er, take it as read and carry Still a trace of bitterness and twisted humour in Ilona's eyes; but more than that, tenderness.
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