Her stifled misery had betrayed her. " "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. " "What? Good Lord, he's alive with fleas! They'll be all over the place. You see, it's like this.
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