A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. . Do not be a fool, Jacques. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. ‘I find this was excessively clever of Gérard. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice.
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