Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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