For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. 255 “You have a very talented son,” was her opening line. ‘The truth is, Everett,’ she said brightly, limping up to the general and tucking a hand in his arm, ‘that the girl is you all over again. .
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