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Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ” Anna’s eyes were a little dim as she poured out her coffee, and the laugh she attempted was not altogether a success. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. And then I came here. Then he understood. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual.
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