“Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. It was obvious that he had waited for her. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. Not content with this exhibition of her prowess, the Amazon lifted him up as easily as if he had been an infant, and placed him upon her shoulders, to the infinite delight of the company, and the increased distress of his mother. I heard only after it was all over. “No, Lucy, because Satan does not exist.
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