Scissors with which to cut her hair, just in case. She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. Some have no males. She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. She could not stir hand or foot. ’ ‘Pah! How can it be romantic? That is silly. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. "More slang," he said. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.
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