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recollections next morning of being lulled to sleep by 

 such queries as, " What's this for? Oh, beautiful, 

 beautiful ! Nice clothes. Yes, yes, yes. How you 

 wear this ? " etc., etc. Poor old dear ! She was just 

 a daughter of Eve, after all, and yet had never 

 known the feminine delight of flattening her nose 

 on the plate-glass windows of Bond Street. Yet 

 the instinct was there all the same, and she already 

 envied the possessor of a real sponge and a better 

 brush and comb than she had ever known. 



