A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Only an undermaid I was then. She seemed just as stiff and shy as a girl ought to be, Lady Palsworthy thought, neither garrulous nor unready, and free from nearly all the heavy aggressiveness, the overgrown, overblown quality, the egotism and want of consideration of the typical modern girl. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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