Only you seem to me since the time when I knew you in Paris to have changed—to have changed in some subtle manner which I find at times utterly bewildering. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. "'Sdeath!" cried Jonathan, staring at the breach in the wall. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles.
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