Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them.
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