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He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. “It was the night you left Paris. ” She repeated, as if she answered an objector: “A sort of blacklegging. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. The one profession, the one decent profession, I mean, for a woman—except the stage— is teaching, and there we trample on one another. I did not even know where to write and thank you. It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing.

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