Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. She shot a sudden glance at him.
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