’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. She looked up, and recognized Mr. Suddenly she understood. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. "You know this is a pet project. You don’t understand. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life.
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