We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. You see, the trouble is that the matter is in dispute. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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