You understand me, Charcoal. I do not wish to return to Paris. Besides ——” She stopped short. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. You know I am in love with you. She was honest again.
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