“Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. 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. We’re closer than you think. “Who are YOU that the world should lie down at your feet? “You’ve got to be a decent citizen, Ann Veronica. You must keep out of the way till it's blown over. There it is.
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