“Looks like old times here, I see. Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. “It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me.
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