I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. For she and this old lady became at once friends. “I feel quite sure that Mrs.
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