“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. " "You'll take the consequences, then?" "Willingly. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. ” “You’ll never pay me. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. I don’t know anyone.
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