Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. 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. "Yale? Why, so am I. He opened the drawer of the writing table.
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