” “Wait? For what?” She replied. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. "This suspense is worse than torture. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. Apparently he did not see his recent companions. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. “Dare!” she said. "He acts queerly, too. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand.
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