And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. “I think she would,” she decided. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ” That conversation ended and he turned to her again. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners.
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