The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. That is what they call these aristocratic refugees, the English. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it.
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