“She can’t go now. You're luck. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen.
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