You did not learn that in a convent. She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. A young man turned to pay the cabman.
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