” She laughed. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. " A deep indignant groan followed. ’ ‘That is silly. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. " "Don't touch it, Winny!" screamed Mrs. ” She raised her eyebrows. “Sir John is not at all that sort. 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. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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