Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. “By Jove!” he said, “there is something direct about you. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. ‘You were his daughter. You ignore me! That’s not a good way to treat your only friend.
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