Their conversation became stilted. You are a girl with very little. Let’s go on climbing now. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace.
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