“I say, Vee. ” “She invited me to dinner anyway. "There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing.
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