"Don't touch me. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house.
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