The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up.
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