It was a purse. Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. It’s—it’s a social difference. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. It was a brief solitude, however.
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