” “Oh!” he said, in a colorless tone, and with his eyes on her face. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. It did not seem quite fair. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. Here was an experienced man of the world, her friend, who evidently took a great interest in this supreme topic and was willing to give her the benefit of his experiences! Why should not she be at her ease with him? Why should not she know things? It is hard enough anyhow for a human being to learn, she decided, but it is a dozen times more difficult than it need be because of all this locking of the lips and thoughts. ” “She doesn’t care for him now?” “Not a bit. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. Wood, at Dollis Hill —" "Let me have one," said a carpenter, who was passing by at the moment,—"Mr. No one spoke to her. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. ‘They hold their nose up, so.
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