" "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. ‘Alors, I see it. ‘You’re right. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. She leaves me almost without comparisons. ’ ‘Yes, that is Mr Brewis Charvill, as you have found out for me. “Katy Pfister. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed.
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