"Can't you take me with you?" urged the voice; "I'll make it well worth your while. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. It is nothing at all for you to worry about. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ” They talked for a while in somewhat dreamy fashion, Anna especially being more silent than usual. What sort of a human being are you, anyhow?" Enschede gazed seaward. Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. " All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts.
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