It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. See paragraph 1.
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