He had adroitly captured her and led her away from her other guests on the pretext of feigning an interest in her charitable attitude to the newly arrived French. She had killed him. The less said, therefore, on this point the better; because, as nothing is to be gained by it, it would only be trouble thrown away. The major’s hand stilled. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar.
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