“This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. ’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. CHAPTER II. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night.
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