I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray,
blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. Locked! He sped out to the corridor
and went swiftly into the next room. Her
mother…. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was
still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she
patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored
the ugliness of equine teeth. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all
places—just now. This is
altogether insupportable. . There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly
made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable
inhabitants. There were always parrots
and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves.
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