His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. \"Did you girls finish your homework?\" Cathy's head appeared in the open door. “Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. . Why did he imagine she was making this journey to England? She feigned interest. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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