She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. I wanted it badly. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. Take my word for it, your troubles are over. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. Nuns, I mean. 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. “Show me around you house, John. I have had my day; and there were women in it. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. With the last glimmer of decency he had sent the daughter to his sister.
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