Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. He said that his life was boring and stupid without her. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. He had fallen off when trying to tie down his aluminum paint ladder. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. ’ Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors. “Yes.
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