The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. I sha'n't cry any more. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. Ann Veronica, after a last survey of the dinner appointments, followed him, rustling, came to his side by the high brass fender, and touched two or three ornaments on the mantel above the cheerful fireplace. He brought home her first “meal”, a man who he 77 claimed was a highwayman who had raped several women and was destined for the hangman’s noose. Playing became a way of escape.
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