She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. Then she called a hansom and drove home. She seemed just as stiff and shy as a girl ought to be, Lady Palsworthy thought, neither garrulous nor unready, and free from nearly all the heavy aggressiveness, the overgrown, overblown quality, the egotism and want of consideration of the typical modern girl. I—well, I lost my temper. . Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. I am yours for the making over. . I'd a good many things to say to you, besides—but you've put them all out of my head.
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