She opened and read it at once. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. I shan't let you off a farthing. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her.
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