She was dressed in one of those complicated dresses that are all lace and work and confused patternings of black and purple and cream about the body, and she was in many ways a younger feminine version of the same theme as himself. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. ‘Do not speak of him.
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