“I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. The fates are never so kind to me. “Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’ve always thought he was an idiot. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. Nevertheless she withdrew her hand. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table.
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