Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. With a little more meat on him, he would be handsome. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. ‘I have the means to compel you. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made.
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