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“We played at love-making in Paris. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table.
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