He sent me home. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. You have set out to do something which is neither God's way nor man's. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t.
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