She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. "There's another instance of your wilfulness and want of taste. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side. We have that gift. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. Businesswomen in pointy-toed shoes swooned coyly in his direction, tipping their noses over their glossy magazines to admire 273 him. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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