From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. The well of tears in her eyes was dry.
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