Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. “Thank goodness!” said that retreating aspect, “that’s said and over. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. “I wonder what happened. She heard their feet and muffled voices.
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