‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. 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. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation.
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