And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris.
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