She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. “My dear Anna,” he answered. Between comrades it is the most usual thing in the world, and I do not see how your sex intervenes. "Because it's not like you," was her answer. It’s one of their worst traits, one of their very worst. I will teach you how to make that little sufficient. Utter silence answered him.
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