‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. I meant mischief. The buboes broke and God took Lucia's mother. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Around him were all the evidences of plenty.
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