Wild. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. It was so difficult to put precisely. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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