It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. I had a hard fight to begin with to win my way into the Upper Division—I was third on a list of fortyseven—and since then I have found myself promoted almost yearly in a widening sphere of social service. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. Splendidly. Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. I will never wed you.
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