She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. The girl is in it as deeply as he is. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. “In a sort of beautiful garden-close—wearing lovely dresses and picking beautiful flowers?” “Ah! If one could!” “While those other girls trudge to business and those other women let lodgings. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. I have been waiting a long time for a family like them.
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