’ Her features broke apart in a laugh. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. I am yours for the making over. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. ” She felt, with a sudden horror, that she might weep.
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