“It was a phase,” she said. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. She glared at him with satisfaction. The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a mild, ladylike sort of way.
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