"Where?" she cried. ‘This is not love, Marthe. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. ’ ‘Alone, miss?’ ‘Certainly alone. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. " "Force shall not make me yours till Jack is free," replied the widow, resolutely. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar.
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