One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. The two young fools laughed until they cried. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same thick legs. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said.
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