At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks.
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