"My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. If morality means anything it means keeping bounds, respecting implications, respecting implicit bounds. I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. She had never had a real doll. Then they appear among the lower things”—she made meticulous gestures to figure the scale of life; she seemed to be holding up specimens, and peering through her glasses at them —“among crustaceans and things, just as little creatures, ever so inferior to the females.
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