’ She frowned suddenly. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. “Has he accused any one yet?” “Not yet,” he answered. Such ambitions as he had were stereotyped and material. Silly, isn’t it? Undisciplined. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. Miss Moffatt, the history and moral instruction mistress, was particularly explicit upon this score, and they all agreed in indicating contempt and pity for girls whose minds ran on such matters, and who betrayed it in their conversation or dress or bearing.
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