” “What case?” “A divorce—or something—I don’t know. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig. A town called Foster. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. "I'm tired of the life I'm leading. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. She recoiled.
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