“You let him touch you!” John whispered back. This way, my dear—and— you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. He had not remembered her as looking so small. She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat.
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