There were two sisters, you know. It worked. I’ll have to think of something else. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. " The Wastrel advanced. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. Kneebone took his leave. 6. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful.
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