" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. It was hot and dry. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. “You do not know what you say. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old.
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