She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. And also she didn’t like them. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks.
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