There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. There it was—to be borrowed. But, it can't be helped. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?" At this moment, a whistle was heard.
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