She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. "I can't make you understand; I can't make you see things as I see them. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form.
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