” She leaned back amongst the cushions of her chair. She could not stir hand or foot. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. That'll tune me up. She could feel her face turning beet red. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her.
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