We aren’t worth it. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. “It is very doubtful,” he said. ” “You should have let me do this for you a long time ago. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. It was ended. How you dress when you're loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, when you dine with me, collar and tie.
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