She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. "Come and see the lagoon in the moonlight. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. ” She swept out of the room. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige.
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