There was little fighting spirit here. Not us. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. She had never seen her sitting on tables nor heard her discussing theology, and had failed to observe that the graceful figure was a natural one and not due to ably chosen stays.
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