It's a sorry world," he went on. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. "Your health, Kneebone. I have worn it for weeks and weeks. I hope that you can find an escape in Forever Fifteen. ’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature. She felt herself shaking again.
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