“There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. I think that there is no better friend for a girl than a man rather older than herself. It never has had. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise.
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