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"There is a set of people whom I cannot bear," says Chalmers, "the pinks of fashionable propriety, whose every word is precise, and whose every movement is unexceptionable, but who, though versed in all the categories of polite behavior, have not a particle of soul or cordiality about them." She turns from him wrathfully; and Geoffrey, disgusted with himself, steps back and makes no reply. With any other woman of his acquaintance he might perhaps at this juncture have made a mild request that he might be allowed to assist in the lacing or buttoning of her shoes; but with this strange little Irish girl all is different. To make such a remark would be, he feels, to offer her a deliberate insult. Soon the young woman came back and said to her husband, "It is a girl baby. You are to have another wife.".
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Conrad
Geoffrey says nothing. But Sir Nicholas, as though impulsively, says,— Friday is fine, and towards nightfall grows still milder, until it seems that even in the dawn of October a summer's night may be born. "Eh?" says Lady Rodney, rousing from a day-dream. "I don't know, I'm sure; but I'll see about it; I'll make inquiries." CHAPTER XVIII..
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