It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. ‘And it may interest you to know, mademoiselle, that the first thing Gerald must needs do on reaching town is to rush off to that convent of yours to make sure you were safe. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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