“And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. "Judging from what you tell me, I've no doubt he's the illegitimate offspring of some handsome, but lowborn profligate; in which case, he'll neither have name, nor wealth for his inheritance. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. John’s demeanor shifted. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him.
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