She was silent. ” She said, searching for her brassiere under his bed. I’ve had it, Sheila. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. ’ Fury rippled again. Fast and Loose 415 XXIII.
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