" "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. Mr. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. . On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. She laughed a little bitterly. There were three exit doors.
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