She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. How am I supposed to rent an apartment when I cannot legally buy cigarettes? I couldn’t use you. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No.
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