“Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. The young lady I was with is not married at all. ” He stopped and said earnestly: “It is the chief thing in life, and everything else goes down before it. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only. The latter formed by far the most knavish-looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage. To make sure work of it, I'll superintend the job myself. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked.
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