He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. If it is that I am in the least French, and that you do not like it—’ ‘I don’t like it,’ snapped the old man. She was powerless to move from her chair.
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