Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. Her specialty is the central thing in life, it is life itself, the warmth of life, sex—and love. That was something in his favour. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud.
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