His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. No man knew whence she had come nor why. He felt her relaxation and let go of her wrists.
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