“Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. Let me run you for six months. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Mrs. . Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. You want industry—you want steadiness. Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying before him. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese.
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