Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. Death belongs to God, young man. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. But the lady was not so easily won; and though she did not absolutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. ” “This,” Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, “reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described.
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