When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. “I think,” he said, “that I am right. Ah, no, I have it wrong. They sold him the whisky. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play.
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