His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. Ah Cum before the day was over, slyly baiting him. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. “Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants.
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