We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. " There was a brief, breathless pause. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. ‘She wants you. Brendon felt his arm seized. We can be friends again. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer.
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