“Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. I said I knew he disliked and distrusted you and your work—that you shared all Russell’s opinions: he hates Russell beyond measure—and that we couldn’t possibly face a conventional marriage. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. By chance I went to one who had known you in Paris. ’ ‘A pretty tale. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached.
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