Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. “It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was a young lady whose name is Pellissier. But it was not so ordered. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone.
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