She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. “I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. I consented to become Mrs. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it.
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