She meditated profoundly through several enormous cold hours on all that had happened and all that she had done since the swirl of the suffrage movement had submerged her personal affairs. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. My dress, my person will be minutely described. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off.
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