They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. . Wild allowed you to have your fine clothes again, or you might have been taken in a still more disgraceful garb. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney.
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