“Don’t come nearer!” she said. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. “These are for you. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. Funk! I’ll see it out.
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