‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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