Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. She went out into the hall, where she met the Jedsons in their kimonos. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. "Mr. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack.
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