” He said. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘Well?’ she said. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. "Think of me forgetting ten thousand so quickly!" "Go to, you old fraud! You'll never fool me again. “She told you that?” “Yes. He regarded that perennial miracle of pinning with wrathful eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come. You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain.
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