“Let me introduce my friend to you,” Courtlaw said. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. “It was the night you left Paris. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. He had said so. After that consolations fled. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours. " "Be pacified, sweet soul," said Wood, looking meaningly at Thames; "you shall go, and I will accompany you.
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