From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. “It was the night you left Paris. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. But I have not done so, and will not. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. I only know that it is right to do what I do.
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