Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. Earles would permit. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures.
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