He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. “Read this, John. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. She passed inside and upstairs without a word. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. She pushed at the closer of the two soldiers bearing the precious burden. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Manning, her aunt and father, neighbors, customs, traditions, forces. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
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