One transgression; he was sure of that. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. I want to go on with my University work under proper conditions, now that I’ve done the Intermediate.
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