” “I promise. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. We'll get this chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is. “How are you feeling?” She asked. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. ’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence.
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