‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. She saw a pole-chair; that would be this Mr. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said. He halted and put out a hand to stop Hilary. “Yes. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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