“I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. " The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound. ‘Let me tell you,’ went on the nun severely, ‘it would have been better for you if you had taken the veil. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII.
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