Ramage, and might describe the affair to him, she cried “Oh!” with renewed vexation, and repeated some steps of her dance in a new and more ecstatic measure. " He bent his head to his knees. ‘She’s gone. I want to leave Paris to-day—this very day. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. . I cannot let you go. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. " She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners. It is Thérèse. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them.
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