She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. She peered into the darkness. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. ” She lifted her eyebrows. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels.
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