The room was dark and dusty. She was too late. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. This she would not endure. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. Well, after a time there came a fever in my blood. Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Eight per cent. I do not care in the least. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super.
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