In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. ’ ‘Wait!’ Leaning forward, Hilary tapped on the panel. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort.
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