He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. “I got your note just in time,” he remarked. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. "Out of the twelve hundred subjects I've tucked up, I may safely place half to his account. Moreover, she claims that this whole enterprise of hers is purely for the purpose of marrying an Englishman. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. ’ ‘I also said, if you remember, that I could not promise not to do so. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you.
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