" "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. He looked just as Julian had the night she had first met him outside the Joliet Laundromat. This year—I’ve got it badly. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. ‘Talk to me another time.
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