Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him.
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