” “It’s so strange to think of you—troubled by such things. ‘Of course it is,’ corroborated Hilary. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. ’ Then she frowned. Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. "You can generally understand that language. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom.
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