We men are like children. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. “Oh, much better. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees.
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