She is Bohemian to the fingertips. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. I dined with a friend and went to the ‘Unusual. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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