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She
was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the
Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if
they were drawn in ink. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be
continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than
relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. His first inquiries were
concerning the child, and he was delighted to find that it still lived and was
doing well. ”
“You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that under the cloak
of her name I am earning more money a week than I could ever have earned in a
year by my own labours. Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly
little dance they call the Junior Prom?\"
There was a pregnant pause as she digested the
information.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 20:48:29