‘You ain’t got nothing on me. He had made himself master of the layout of the house, that was plain. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. “You’re very nice, both of you,” she said gently. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. She turned to face him and he kissed her.
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