She repeated phrases of Mrs. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked. ‘Do not beg my pardon. " "En-shad-ay. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.
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