"Don't exchange glances with him under my very nose, woman!" shrieked Mrs. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. You know they say, as, indeed, I have just quoted already, that all bad poetry is written in a state of emotion, but I have no doubt that this is true of bad offers of marriage. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt.
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