She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. \" Shari said. But I mean to have them. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. ” She said. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. It’s—Mrs.
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