‘And me, I am a lady. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. So am I. I hope you will always love her, but I want you to remember she has offended your father and married without his consent. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. \"Some of them don't smell so good. Every girl in the world practically, except a few of us who teach or type-write, and then we’re underpaid and sweated—it’s dreadful to think how we are sweated!” She had lost her generalization, whatever it was. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps.
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