We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Not much. “Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs. Earles recovered his spirits. " "You are interested?" "In a way, naturally. Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time. "Where is he?" he cried.
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