“She wasn’t sane, my wife. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. And you started out forthwith to fight the world and be a citizen on your own basis?” He came forward again and folded his hands under him on his desk. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity.
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