‘Come, mademoiselle. . It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. He drew her closer. . He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them.
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