‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. He jumped out of the car. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. The Night-Cellar. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. "He left Dollis Hill at ten o'clock on that night, and has not since returned. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris.
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