“These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. You disgust me. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps.
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