What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. “Is that a challenge?” She shrugged her shoulders, all ablaze with jewels. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. Jack was completely overcome. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Spurlock slept on.
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