" "I'll tell you what I'll do," rejoined the other. I couldn't accept anything from you. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying.
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