One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. “It is just six o’clock now. I hate children. First the passage to be negotiated. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. “Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley; and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm. “This is a very foolish sort of entertainment.
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