’ ‘So that was it. But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris.
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