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After a little while he did not regret Dallas's indiscretion It seemed to take an iron band frouessed and pitied And that it should have been his wife moved hiht, would not have understood that To the boy, no doubt, the episode was only a pathetic instance of vain frustration, of wasted forces But was it really notime Archer sat on a bench in the Champs Elysees and wondered, while the stream of life rolled by

A few streets away, a few hours away, Ellen Olenska waited She had never gone back to her husband, and when he had died, so There was nothing now to keep her and Archer apart--and that afternoon he was to see her

He got up and walked across the Place de la Concorde and the Tuileries gardens to the Louvre She had once told him that she often went there, and he had a fancy to spend the intervening ti lately been For an hour or h the dazzle of afternoon light, and one by one the pictures burst on hi his soul with the long echoes of beauty After all, his life had been too starved

Suddenly, before an effulgent Titian, he found hi: "But I'm only fifty-seven--" and then he turned away For such summer dreams it was too late; but surely not for a quiet harvest of friendship, of comradeship, in the blessed hush of her nearness

He went back to the hotel, where he and Dallas were to ain across the Place de la Concorde and over the bridge that leads to the Cha on in his father'sexcitedly and abundantly of Versailles He had had but one previous gli a holiday trip in which he had tried to pack all the sights he had been deprived of when he had had to go with the family to Switzerland; and tumultuous enthusiasm and cock-sure criticism tripped each other up on his lips

As Archer listened, his sense of inadequacy and inexpressiveness increased The boy was not insensitive, he knew; but he had the facility and self-confidence that ca at fate not as a s--they know their way about," he eneration which had swept away all the old landnal