He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. I gather you wish to go up in some fantastic get-up, wrapped about in your opera cloak, and that after the festivities you propose to stay with these friends of yours, and without any older people in your party, at an hotel. So it is that I do not do these things. He seemed too noisy. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before.
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