For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. I’d need to be out of my senses. Brendon felt his arm seized. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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