Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. ” “Too much character, and too little sentiment,” he answered. They fell into step again. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. ’ The things she said and did from you—seem impossible. He’s a quiet person, and he says that quiet people should never become salesmen. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. You steered and I rowed stroke. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful.
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