1. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. He—wanted to marry me.
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