About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. The Pursuit 425 XXV. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. “A man can manage without hair; A man scores always, everywhere.
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