Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. “I am much obliged to you,” he said. 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. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. It will do its best to overlook things—” “If we let it, poor dear. ‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off.
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