Gerald’s temper flared. ’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked. Listen. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding. I shouldn't care to express an opinion. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it.
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