It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. "At a thought. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes.
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