“You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him.
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