The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. He waved a cordial goodbye. For I still love her mother.
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