“And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. ” “And in Paris——” “In Paris,” he interrupted, “she was a very delightful companion, but beyond that —one did not take her seriously. The tired woman looked quietly at her. ‘Come, cry a truce. Only an undermaid I was then. Her mouth at half-cock, Melusine stood there staring at him. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. "We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment.
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