“Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. "But I'm a blackguard, too, Ruth. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. A Madame Valade and her husband. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. Certainly not a gentlewoman. And he did not lack courage.
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