She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. “Then there was a motor accident only an hour or so after this ceremony, and Hill was reported to be killed. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. . At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. You called her a wanton!" "Because I had every reason to believe she was one.
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