“I should like you to come here,” she said. The shock and distress were genuine. She had learned this art in skirts, and knew well how not to be disadvantaged. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. The devastations, however, were speedily made good, and, in two years more, it was finished. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness.
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