Her heart failed her and her resolution became water. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. “Who can tell?” she said. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books.
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