“I shall leave the flat to you and go to a hotel. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. I thought every one had heard about it.
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