She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. ” “But didn’t you say some more about that ball?” “I said everything I could say as soon as I realized she was trying to avoid the topic. . In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. This time there wasn't any doubt. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet.
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