At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. Even WITH the Censorship of Plays there’s hardly a decent thing to which a man can take his wife and daughters, a creeping taint of suggestion everywhere. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. He grunted, and his grip gave. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand.
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