Perhaps
already, in France -
He got up. His desk was covered with papers, neatly endorsed by
his secretary. He turned out all the lights but his desk lamp.
Natalie's gleaming flesh-tones died into the shadows, and he stood
for a moment, looking up at it, a dead thing, remote, flat, without
significance. Then he sat down at his desk and took up a bundle
of government papers.
There was still work. Thank God for work.
CHAPTER L
Audrey was in Paris on the eleventh of November. Now and then she
got back there, and reveled for a day or two in the mere joy of
paved streets and great orderly buildings. She liked the streets
and the crowds. She liked watching the American boys swaggering
along, smoking innumerable cigarets and surveying the city with
interested, patronizing eyes. And, always, walking briskly along
the Rue Royale or the Avenue de l'Opera, or in the garden of the
Tuileries where the school-boys played their odd French games, her
eyes were searching the faces of the men she met.
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