’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. 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. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. His glasses were gone.
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