E. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Gosse sneered. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. She's too pretty and unusual. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. “We have to be— modern.
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