“Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “I love you. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. You must come and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall forgive you for not having written to any of us. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. ‘Alors, what advantages?’ ‘But think,’ he said earnestly, moving a little closer.
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