Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. He became angry. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. ’ Total bullshit, if you ask me. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. Montague Hill. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. How can you say such things? You’re too young to be married, and realize this: you’re not ready.
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