. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. ’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. There’s plenty to be got out of life in a decent sort of way. It’s a thing that’s happened to you. She was emerging from the primordial as Spurlock was declining toward it. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. Forgive my daring.
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