Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. She drove me. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat.
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