Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. . Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. ” He was dismissed, and he understood it. " "They are useless," she returned.
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