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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

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Baxter, who told me that my
innocent heedlessness might give Mr. Quisante pain. I oughtn't to have
told you that, but it was rather funny. I'm sure she's said it to all the
Baxter girls in turn, and about all the girls that all the Baxter boys
were ever in love with."
"Possibly Mrs. Baxter only perceives the wretched underwood."
"Inevitably," said May.
"For heaven's sake don't drift into thinking that you're the only person
who can understand him. Once think that about anybody and you're his
slave."
"Perhaps I'm the only person who takes the trouble. I don't claim genius,
only diligence."
"Well, you're very diligent," Morewood grunted.
She sat looking straight in front of her for a few moments in silence,
while Morewood admired the curve of her chin and the moulding of her
throat.
"I feel," she said in a low voice and slowly, "as if I must see what
becomes of him and as if it ought to be seen at close quarters."
Then Morewood spoke with deliberate plainness.
"You know better than I do that he's not of your class; I mean in
himself, not merely where he happens to come from.


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