To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said.
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