The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. I know nothing about the matter, but I feel convinced that you are right. “His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. “Thank you,” she said coolly.
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