By the time he had reached St. Mr. I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. “What ought you to do?” He began to produce his knowledge of the world for her benefit, jerkily and allusively, and with a strong, rank flavor of “savoir faire. Then you have altered not only that, but your manner of dressing it. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. I felt suddenly I understood you—as an intelligent person.
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