‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. Our quarrel's quite over. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. A neat tale, giving little away. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. He smiled complacently. The country was partitioned in a similar manner. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition.
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