Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. You’re of age— you’re of age. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. She laughed. Gosse must now fight with his back to the altar, and a dais at his heels.
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