"You've got him?" demanded Ireton. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. One of these was a classification of women into women who are and women who are not hostile to men. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock.
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