“John, don’t!” she cried. ” She tried to plan her proceedings in detail. 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. Mutual concessions!—and then to turn it around so that it suggested that an act of kindness might be interpreted as moral obloquy! Walls; queer, invisible walls that receded whenever she reached out, but that still remained between her and what she sought. “Just think about what you are asking, John, please. Wood laughed louder than ever. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth.
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