"It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. She smiled. ” He did not look at her. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. ” He dropped his eye-glass with a clatter.
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