The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. That would be an unkind twist of fate. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. 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. "God in Heaven bless you, unhappy boy!" cried. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. They had cried a little, both. Well, that’s the situation. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations.
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