“I detest amateurs. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. " The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. Besides, by the time they were off his hands, old McClintock would be dropping in to have his liver renovated. . "As I could wish!" cried Jonathan. She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. Footman or some such. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms.
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