Do not be a fool, Jacques. He looked down and met them. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Then she moved towards the door. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. He had the air of a man who has said too much. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. Conscious of Mrs.
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