et her gaze through the curtain of rain. Tears blurred her vision as his handsome figure trembled hazily in her eyes.
Inside the H?tel de Ville, the chaotic struggle had come to an end, leaving behind a graveyard-like silence. Several soldiers carrying long rifles swaggered forward.
One of the guards, sporting a small, upturned mustache, smirked in Andre''s direction, puckering his lips. "Quenet chose himself a fine spot, I suppose he finds it rather comfortable there."
The other two guards roughly twisted Andre''s arms behind his back, binding his body with ropes. Her lover surrendered without a trace of resistance, his expression indifferent, as he was escorted out of the grand building of H?tel de Ville.
As the soldier with the mustache departed, he glanced down at the lifeless body of Philippe on the ground, then kicked his head disdainfully with the tip of his boot, sneering, "Hmph, Quenet''s lapdog!"