” They went on for a time without another word. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. ’ Roding left the house instantly, not even pausing to nod. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. ‘Kill him? Oh. “Take me back. ” She laughed.
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