They rose as she approached. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom.
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