It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. But I did hear something else from Leah Goldblum. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. “Yes.
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