Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. “What do you mean?” she asked. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. ” He whispered to himself as her eyes bulged, arms flying furiously.
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