When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. She could feel Michelle’s nervousness leaching into her spine. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “Will he die?” she asked.
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