you will see that my purpose now is selfless...

that I only wish to serve you and him." She stooped and placed the folded paper in the midst of a great clump of centifolium roses, and then without another word she turned and went her way.

For a few moments, whilst Marguerite still stood there, puzzled and vaguely moved, she could hear the gentle frou-frou of the other woman's skirts against the soft sand of the path, and then a long-drawn sigh that sounded like a sob.
Then all was still again.

The gentle midnight breeze caressed the tops of the ancient oaks and elms behind her, drawing murmurs from their dying leaves like unto the whisperings of ghosts.
Marguerite shuddered with a slight sense of cold.

Before her, amongst the dark clump of leaves and the roses, invisible in the gloom, there fluttered with a curious, melancholy flapping, the folded paper placed there by Candeille.