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. CHAPTER XII. Maggot, bursting into a loud contemptuous laugh. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. “What did you say?” “Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered drily.
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