Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. This manoeuvre was so suddenly executed that it took Abraham completely by surprise. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. “I saw his face in a mirror. It was hard to meet that gaze. It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me.
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