"These writer chaps are queer birds. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. Martha was quite right. "Speak plainly. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. It had been a very long time. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. I didn’t understand. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them.
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