She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. "Much that I would willingly forget. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. He was there concealed, waiting her return. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat.
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