I might as well be at Morningside Park. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. She goes out and comes home. "I understand," she said. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. The fire still burned brightly. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent.
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