She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother.
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