’ Gerald did not speak, but there was a look in his face that made Melusine glad she had at last had the courage to confide in him. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight.
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