‘To see Charvill. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. She always dawdled, so it was easy. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. A door slammed. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire.
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