‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. 1. "Jonathan has threatened to do her some mischief. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully.
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