” She laughed softly. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. The evenings were dulcet and soft. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. 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.
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