I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. ” She shook her head. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. ” He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. Heaven forbid. He lives near the Black Lion. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path.
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