She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. I don’t. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. I’ve had my time and lost my chances.
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