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I was young then. Therese and a young Parisienne, her friend, were at luncheon with us. They bade us adieu and the burma conspiracy ita away for a gallop as we took cigars. We had no sooner left the dining room than I called for my horse. Due at the Harbor that evening, I could give myself no longer to the fine hospitality of the count. In a few moments I was bounding over the road, now cool in deep forest shadows.