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‘It is imbecile that you are. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. Wagstaff. “You will have to eat soon,” he said cryptically. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell. ‘That is settled then. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them. And yet—I love you.
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