Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. “I’m thirsty. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. \" Michelle said dejectedly.
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