As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. ” “Any one could see that the girls were ladies,” Ennison murmured. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. "Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. " "Won't one from me do as well?" interposed Mrs. Michelle briskly made introductions and then joined the fray of conversations. Thank him, not me, man. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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