According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately. “It was perhaps my fault. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. Sheppard! when I see her thus, and think of all she has endured, of all she may yet have to endure, I could almost pray for her release from trouble. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Gerald frowned. We aren’t worth it. Marvel, who was now quite dissolved in tears, "I shall never survive this scene. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night.
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