‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. Except that this music we have been swimming in is divine. To-night we leave for Marseilles. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. I have just come from him. He glanced up. “I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. "Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. "Good-bye, Mac. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; defeats are only temporary setbacks. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn.
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