His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. He will wish to have his fears laid to rest. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. ” He shook her hands off almost roughly. "Spring!—I never knew any.
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