3. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. She went into premature labor. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less.
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