Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. “It isn’t anything to do with our times particularly. She has married some one he could not approve of, and gone right away. The air was pungent and leaden. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. His guardian angel warned Spurlock to speak carefully.
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