But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in. Such names shone brightly in the darkness, with black spaces of unilluminated emptiness about them, as stars shine in the night; but now—now it was different; now it was dawn—the real dawn. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction.
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