"Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. His face was downcast. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire.
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