It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. They had refused. She paused for a moment. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. She has never done a really ignoble thing that I know of— never. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. "I'm tired of the life I'm leading. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. Later, she would sew it on. "Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return.
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