Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. She could not part with dignity. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. However good you were to me, and however happy I was in other ways, I should find this intolerable. He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. I can’t. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner.
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