He walked hastily to the side of the broad pavement and summoned a fiacre. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. But what a monster was this Emile. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. I am sure. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. "I am sorry.
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