Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. It engulfed them in black, white, and gray. “Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop.
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