"Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again.
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