Mrs. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe. She wanted to kiss his feet. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption.
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