‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. Nobody toys with me. She looked around her. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. They are the only happy women in the Orient.
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