She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. Plote was sleeping or deaf. ’ Quick anger flared, surpassing the fluttering hope.
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