. ’ ‘So I heard. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. The door to the library burst open. Capes. Still silence everywhere. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. A girl—at my age—is grown-up.
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