She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing. His curiosity put itself into a question. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips.
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