“You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. ” He mumbled, driving on. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. This is a mere boy. “I don’t think she will,” she said. I do not wish to return to Paris.
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