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He was gone then, but she could still hear his laughter as he walked down the hall and she threw herself
forward onto the floor, sobbing in near hysterics.
God Almighty! What's ever to become of me?
Chapter 6
Rafael Girarde was a handsome man by any measure of standard. He was tall, broad shouldered and
lean hipped, wore his well-cut, tailored clothes with a flair, smiled broadly with an open, warm
expression, his discerning blue eyes sparkling sincerely, his deep masculine, resonant voice inspiring
confidence. Madeleine was particularly taken with his heavy shock of waved, greying hair, the one single
tell-tale of his fifty odd years.
She was surprised at his simple, lackluster office, knowing his successful business capacity as an
importer and owner of night clubs throughout the city, as well as holding a post as Ministre Of
Gouvernment, say nothing of his luxurious home in Mont Royal that she had only seen, of course, from
the street. But in all, she was most impressed by the way he made her feel, even after she had told him
who she was and why she was there ...
"Please, my dear, won't you sit down and be comfortable?" he had offered coming from behind his
cluttered desk to place his hand on a chair in a gestured invitation.
Madeleine went to it and seated herself while M. Girarde returned to his place behind the desk. She felt
extremely tense and had already begun to question whether she had done the right thing by exposing
herself this way ... but she'd not rushed into it blindly, without considering Antoine's position. Earlier, she
had desperately tried to lead into the subject with her husband, prepared to cleanse her conscience once
and for all and beg him to help her recover her child, but his indifferent and preoccupied attitude had
finally caused her to give up the idea. Instead, she had struggled through coffee with him, kissing him at
the door as she handed him his briefcase, then hurriedly dressed, knowing exactly what she was going to
do. Whether Antoine had suspected something was amiss she wasn't certain, nor hardly cared any
longer, but certainly their conversation had been strained and he'd acted terrible edgy ...
"Well now ..." M. Girarde was saying with a pleasant smile, "... you have already brightened my day to
no end, Madame Poirier ... for at last, I understand why Igat is such a beautiful child ... her mother is a
ravishing beauty."
Madeleine blushed immediately; she dropped her eyes in sincere, if, gentle embarrassment. "You're most
kind, M'sieu', but I must admit that I don't feel very ravishing ... coming to you with my sordid story this
way ..."
"Ah, ma chere, but you mustn't degrade yourself over an unfortunate affaire d'amour," said M. Girarde
suavely. "How is it they say ...? It is better to have loved and lost than never to ..."
"That was not the situation at all, M'sieu'," Madeleine interrupted quickly. "I assure you, it was not ..."
Rafael Girarde shrugged his broad shoulders. "So ... what difference," he said, his warm smile always
prevalent. He leaned back in his chair, joining his hands at fingertips. "How can I help you, ma chere?"
Madeleine bit nervously at her lower lip, the ridiculousness of her proposed request suddenly dawning
on her. To entertain even the remotest idea that these people would give up her baby after all this time
had been insane ... unreasonable ... for weren't they more parents to her than she had ever been? In fact,
they were the only parents Igat had ever known ...! Yet, she hadn't thought of it that way at all ... and
now, faced with her own irrational decision, she hardly knew what to do next.
"Well, Madame ...?" Girarde prodded gently.
"I-I don't know what to say, M'sieu'," she stammered. Suddenly, she reached into her purse and found a
small hanky to dab at her nose as her dark eyes began to glisten behind her tears. "It's ... it's my baby ...
I miss her so ... want her so ... Oh God, M'sieu' Girarde, what can I do ..? I-I think I'll lose my mind if I
don't get her back ..."
Rafael Girarde barely moved; he studied this voluptuous girl who had given birth to the child both he and
his wife had come to think of as their very own, the child they had purchased from a drunken doctor
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