” “Did it hurt when we did it?” His voice rose, inflamed with worry. “There’s morbid beauty,” said Ann Veronica. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She found next morning, when she came to this advertisement answering, that it was more difficult than she had supposed. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. “I don’t want children, Lucy. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean.
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