. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. On that basis alone, he had no right to give or accept love. She has never done a really ignoble thing that I know of— never. I asked her to marry me, and she consented.
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