“Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. ” “What do you want?” he asked, bluntly. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. So he resolved to try another tack. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. " "It is folded under your pillow.
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