I hold a warrant from Mr. Men ought not to idealize any woman. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. The third item she took with a trembling hand by its waistbelt.
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