Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. He kissed her deeply and hungrily. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. Her education was remarkable in that it was overdeveloped here and underdeveloped there: the woman of thirty and the child of ten were always getting in each other's way.
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