“Mere sensuality. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. But they’ve just been to see General Charvill. But did you ever hear of a djinn in a blue-serge coat? Stitched in!" Something like this was always rushing into his throat; and he had to sink his nails into his palms to stop his mouth. " "Surest thing you know. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs.
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