White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. "But it wants something here. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. I forget. ” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex. I know all about it. . He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came.
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