I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. This man and he were alike, and about the same age. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. And you see, I don’t turn my back, and I am looking at you and thinking about you from top to toe. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. Later Lord Charvill told Jarvis that it had been precisely the same at the outset.
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