Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. You give her a daub here and there where the rust shows. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. “I’d run away with you in a heartbeat. Give me your hand. I can’t stand it. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again.
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