Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. “Do you mind if I tweeze your eyebrows?” Shari asked her. Because she states her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact that she is right.
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