\"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. He would be off her case just as soon as his fever for her broke and he found a lover, and she imagined he must have plenty of girls from ritzy families lining up to choose from. I want you. Her thought spoke aloud. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her. NOW it’s just as though you had grown up suddenly. “It’s a new phase in the life history,” he remarked. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow.
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