But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. The man’s as obstinate as a mule. ” Lucy appeared and appraised him briefly, nonchalantly. “How do you feel?” she asked. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life.
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