They had not to tarry long. . ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. "You've got to kill me to get out of here alive.
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