’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Stanley, at the door. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. He glanced at his watch. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. Don't strip me quite.
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