I did not try to explain
to myself how the face, and the woman, could be traveling by a fast
train from Berlin to Paris on a winter's afternoon, when both were
in my mind indelibly associated with the moonlight and the
fountains in my own English home. I certainly would not have
admitted that I had been mistaken in the dusk, attributing to what
I had seen a resemblance to my former vision which did not really
exist. There was not the slightest doubt in my mind, and I was
positively sure that I had again seen the face I loved. I did not
hesitate, and in a few hours I was on my way back to Paris. I
could not help reflecting on my ill luck. Wandering as I had been
for many months, it might as easily have chanced that I should be
traveling in the same train with that woman, instead of going the
other way. But my luck was destined to turn for a time.
I searched Paris for several days. I dined at the principal
hotels; I went to the theaters; I rode in the Bois de Boulogne in
the morning, and picked up an acquaintance, whom I forced to drive
with me in the afternoon. I went to mass at the Madeleine, and I
attended the services at the English Church.
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