" This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. She would take this one back with her. ” He made a grand gesture towards the car, his smile broadening. “It’s still a marvel to me that we are to be forgiven,” she said, turning. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he found them. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance.
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