” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. ‘I hope I do not understand you. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her.
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