“She wasn’t sane, my wife. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. And now her father said she must not go. Mr. Now, I'll be getting along.
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