She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. ’ ‘So would you run away,’ she uttered impulsively. Also from the capital came news of grave fears for the safety of the royal family, who had moved there from Versailles. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her.
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