The girl’s eyes never left his face. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. “I am very much obliged for the tea,” she said. Sometimes I try to talk. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.
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