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I'll tote it myself. She touched it, and her gaze lifted. “One hardly knows—all the time. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. She opened and read it at once. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again.
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