‘Oh, the Frenchie. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the boulevards. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her.
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