"But, I own, I think it is like. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. It was not simply that all the rooms were rearranged and everybody dressed in unusual fashions, and all the routines of life abolished and put away: people’s tempers and emotions also seemed strangely disturbed and shifted about. The first peg was torture. ” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair.
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