Strangers look in and long, and neighbours are moved to envy. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. “I feel shabby and disgraced. The theme was a masquerade. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. You never can tell. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. And I don’t.
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