"You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. Sheila bellowed, a great wail of a sound from deep in her belly, flinging her tremendous weight towards him. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. And what a noise they made! This is how I used to call them.
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