The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. Sir Rowland laid his hand upon his sword. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. "Thames, I entreat—" "Your wishes are my laws, beloved, girl," replied Kneebone, bowing profoundly. "These people are all in league with him," cried the latter.
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