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Saint's Progress

VII
Noel went back to her hospital after a week's rest. George had done more for her than he suspected, for his saying: `Life's a huge wide adaptable thing!' had stuck in her mind. Did it matter what happened to her? And she used to look into the faces of the people she met, and wonder what was absorbing them. What secret griefs and joys were they carrying about with them? The loneliness of her own life now forced her to this speculation concerning others, for she was extraordinarily lonely; Gratian and George were back at work, her father must be kept at bay; with Leila she felt ill at ease, for the confession had hurt her pride; and family friends and acquaintances of all sorts she shunned like the plague. The only person she did not succeed in avoiding was Jimmy Fort, who came in one evening after dinner, bringing her a large bunch of hothouse violets. But then, he did not seem to matter-too new an acquaintance, too detached. Something he said made her aware that he had heard of her loss, and that the violets were a token of sympathy. He seemed awfully kind that evening, telling her `tales of Araby', and saying nothing which would shock her father. It was wonderful to be a man and roll about the world as he had, and see all life, and queer places, and peopleChinamen, and Gauchos, and Boers, and Mexicans. It gave her a kind of thirst. And she liked to watch his brown, humorous face, which seemed made of dried leather. It gave her the feeling that life and experience were all that mattered, doing and seeing things; it made her own trouble seem smaller, less important. She squeezed his hand when she said good night. `Thank you for my violets and for coming; it was awfully kind of you! I wish I could have adventuresl' And he answered: `You will, my dear fairy princess !' He said it queerly and very kindly.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE VII Noel went back to her hospital after a week's rest. George had done more for her than he suspected, for his saying: `Life's a huge wide adaptable thing 1' had stuck in her mind. Did it matter what happened to her? And she used to look into what is faces of what is people she met, and wonder what was absorbing them. What secret griefs and joys were they carrying about with them? what is loneliness of her own life now forced her to this speculation concerning others, for she was extraordinarily lonely; Gratian and George were back at work, her father must be kept at bay; with Leila she felt ill at ease, for what is confession had hurt her pride; and family friends and acquaintances of all sorts she shunned like what is plague. what is only person she did not succeed in avoiding was Jimmy Fort, who came in one evening after dinner, bringing her a large bunch of hothouse violets. But then, he did not seem to matter-too new an acquaintance, too detached. Something he said made her aware that he had heard of her loss, and that what is violets were a token of sympathy. He seemed awfully kind that evening, telling her `tales of Araby', and saying nothing which would shock her father. It was wonderful to be a man and roll about what is world as he had, and see all life, and queer places, and peopleChinamen, and Gauchos, and Boers, and Mexicans. It gave her a kind of thirst. And she liked to watch his brown, humorous face, which seemed made of dried leather. It gave her what is feeling that life and experience were all that mattered, doing and seeing things; it made her own trouble seem smaller, less important. She squeezed his hand when she said good night. `Thank you for my violets and for coming; it was awfully kind of you 1 I wish I could have adventuresl' And he answered: `You will, my dear fairy princess 1' He said it queerly and very kindly. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Saint's Progress (1935) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 115 where is p align="center" where is strong Saint's Progress where is p align="justify" where is strong VII Noel went back to her hospital after a week's rest. George had done more for her than he suspected, for his saying: `Life's a huge wide adaptable thing!' had stuck in her mind. Did it matter what happened to her? And she used to look into what is faces of what is people she met, and wonder what was absorbing them. What secret griefs and joys were they carrying about with them? The loneliness of her own life now forced her to this speculation concerning others, for she was extraordinarily lonely; Gratian and George were back at work, her father must be kept at bay; with Leila she felt ill at ease, for what is confession had hurt her pride; and family friends and acquaintances of all sorts she shunned like what is plague. what is only person she did not succeed in avoiding was Jimmy Fort, who came in one evening after dinner, bringing her a large bunch of hothouse violets. But then, he did not seem to matter-too new an acquaintance, too detached. Something he said made her aware that he had heard of her loss, and that what is violets were a token of sympathy. He seemed awfully kind that evening, telling her `tales of Araby', and saying nothing which would shock her father. It was wonderful to be a man and roll about what is world as he had, and see all life, and queer places, and peopleChinamen, and Gauchos, and Boers, and Mexicans. It gave her a kind of thirst. And she liked to watch his brown, humorous face, which seemed made of dried leather. It gave her what is feeling that life and experience were all that mattered, doing and seeing things; it made her own trouble seem smaller, less important. She squeezed his hand when she said good night. `Thank you for my violets and for coming; it was awfully kind of you! I wish I could have adventuresl' And he answered: `You will, my dear fairy princess !' He said it queerly and very kindly. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Saint's Progress (1935) books

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