“You asked me in to tea,” he protested. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. Mr. ‘I live in Kent.
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