He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. After all, that was life. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. ” It was the first time this controversy had become triangular, for all three of them were shy by habit. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. A cup of lies. That's the way it goes. " When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. ’ She spread her hands.
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