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There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. . \"I don't think so. I do not wish to return to Paris. ” She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. . ” “I have been abroad,” he said. I’m rather scornful.
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