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The island was snake-free. She looked at her flattened belly. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar. Not then. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out.
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