" "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. "The men. It’s my other side of the moon. It’s gone. " "Ah! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs. Shoplatch. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. "Good night, Master.
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