Another long interval elapsed. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. ’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. And for many years, that was the way it was. You see, it's like this. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them.
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