’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. “And this is Mr. ” He stalked around the room. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. “Life—things—I don’t think her prospects now—Hopeful outlook. . You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. ” He leaned towards her.
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