"Call me Hoddy. The half-nude brown bodies of the crew informed Ah Cum that the schooner had come up from the South Seas. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. Profligate women are never reclaimed. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. “I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers.
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