"Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. "Your sympathy is being wasted. " "And now, father, your blessing—your consent!" cried Thames. Never had she seemed to him so much like Anna. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. CHAPTER XVIII.
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