Manning central in her mind. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. “Just at present my mind simply won’t take hold of this at all. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle.
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