. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females. He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. But there was a face pressed to the glass. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine. You’re just a particular being with nothing else in the world to class with you. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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