She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time. " "And you want me to find a minister?" she asked, with ready comprehension. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. He opened the door for her with a faint disagreeable smile.
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