She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. ’ ‘So I see. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. She saw his face change, how he regretted. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. We were to live in some wretched London suburb.
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