At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. “Mere sensuality. “Very likely. You're an angel of goodness. That—that isn’t living! You are beside yourself. I can't concentrate on my work. Manning central in her mind.
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