Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. . She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. ” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt.
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