” His fingers touched hers for a moment under the ledge of the box. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. “I have never seen him in my life,” she said to the official. For she and this old lady became at once friends.
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