“I must go. "That's a good story, lad. She looked at him curiously. You know that. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. She backed away, amazed as the thing buzzed loudly in the center of the room. "I was only commenting. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat.
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