Answering him was agonizing. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. “My dear, can you see in this light? I think I would like to get in. \"I’ve never been to any of Lincoln’s dances. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. There’s something— something ADULT about you.
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