I said as how I’d tell Mr Jarvis as he wanted to take you away. The south-east end of the island was hillocky, with volcanic subsoil. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian.
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