‘You would have a history of my life? Very well. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. “I say!” he cried. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked.
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