He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. And, as usual,” she continued, a little bitterly, “I seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of Mrs. Her pa was only the smithy. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by.
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