He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face.
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