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Alexander's Bridge

"I hope so. Now let's go to some awfully jolly place for dinner before we go home.
I could eat all the dinners there are in London to-night. Where shall I tell the
driver? The Piccadilly Restaurant? The music's good there."
"There are too many people there whom one knows. Why not that little French
place in Soho, where we went so often when you were here in the summer? I
love it, and I've never been there with any one but you. Sometimes I go by
myself, when I am particularly lonely."
"Very well, the sole's good there. How many street pianos there are about to-
night! The fine weather must have thawed them out. We've had five miles of `Il
Trovatore' now. They always make me feel jaunty. Are you comfy, and not too
tired?"
I'm not tired at all. I was just wondering how people can ever die. Why did you
remind me of the mummy? Life seems the strongest and most indestructible
thing in the world. Do you really believe that all those people rushing about down
there, going to good dinners and clubs and theatres, will be dead some day, and
not care about anything? I don't believe it, and I know I shan't die, ever! You see,
I feel too--too powerful!"
The carriage stopped. Bartley sprang out and swung her quickly to the
pavement. As he lifted her in his two hands he whispered: "You are--powerful!"
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