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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Condensed Novels: New Burlesques"


He shuddered, he knew not why, and passed his hand over his high
forehead. "Yes, I go there very often," he replied vacantly. "But
you, mademoiselle--you--I have met before?"
"Oh, ages, ages ago!" There was something weird in her emphasis.
"Ha!" said a voice near them, "I thought so!" It was the doctor,
peering at them curiously. "And you both feel rather dazed and
creepy?" He suddenly felt their pulses, lingering, however, as the
Chevalier fancied, somewhat longer than necessary over the lady's
wrist and beautiful arm. He then put a small round box in the
Chevalier's hand, saying, "One before each meal," and turning to
the lady with caressing professional accents said, "We must wrap
ourselves closely and endeavor to induce perspiration," and hurried
away, dragging the Chevalier with him. When they reached a
secluded corner, he said, "You had just now a kind of feeling,
don't you know, as if you'd sort of been there before, didn't you?"
"Yes, what you call a--preexistence," said the Chevalier
wonderingly.
"Yes; I have often observed that those who doubt a future state of
existence have no hesitation in accepting a previous one," said the
doctor dryly. "But come, I see from the way the crowd are hurrying
that your divinity's number is up--I mean," he corrected himself
hastily, "that she is probably dancing again.


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