“I will not be drawn into a conversation with Mr. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. " "You'd better," replied Quilt. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. I’m sorry to disappoint you. I can talk with them. “I’m covered. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. ” “Mary, please don’t cry.
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