“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. “She is an extremely attractive girl,” she said; and added, “to some people. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance.
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