“Don’t tell anyone I told you this. He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. We men are like children. That bruise will answer the same purpose. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. She became more assertive, more defiant. Immeasurable disgust possessed her. I get your side all right. Her shoulders began to ache.
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