‘As to Gérard, I do not know why he does this. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over.
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