“But you must forgive me, John. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. “Mr. She fixed her brilliant eyes upon him.
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