Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. Huge trees obscured the view of it. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. The world, she discovered, with these matters barred had no particular place for her at all, nothing for her to do, except a functionless existence varied by calls, tennis, selected novels, walks, and dusting in her father’s house. ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more.
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