"My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life.
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