Her sister would accept both with a lightness that would keep no trace of either; but in her they would sink lastingly deep.

He came out of his reverie to find Mrs.Dryfoos saying to him, in her hoarse voice: "I think it's a shame, some of the pictur's a body sees in the winders.
They say there's a law ag'inst them things; and if there is, I don't understand why the police don't take up them that paints 'em.

I hear 182 tell, since I been here, that there's women that goes to have pictur's took from them that way by men painters." The point seemed aimed at March, as if he were personally responsible for the scandal, and it fell with a silencing effect for the moment.

Nobody seemed willing to take it up, and Mrs.Dryfoos went on, with an old woman's severity: "I say they ought to be all tarred and feathered and rode on a rail.

They'd be drummed out of town in Moffitt." Miss Mela said, with a crowing laugh: "I should think they would! And they wouldn't anybody go low neck to the opera-house there, either--not low neck the way they do here, anyway." "And that pack of worthless hussies," her mother resumed, "that come out on the stage, and begun to kick." "Laws, mother!" the girl shouted, "I thought you said you had your eyes shut!" All but these two simpler creatures were abashed at the indecorum of suggesting in words the commonplaces of the theatre and of art.
"Well, I did, Mely, as soon as I could believe my eyes.