What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. To tell Ruth anything, it would be necessary to tell her everything; and I cannot and you must not. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. I'm about to leave this country for ever.
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