She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. “To-night we are as we have always been. His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen.
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