” “You mean to say,” Anna said slowly, “that you are going to leave your husband?” “Yes. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Sheila plucked it out of Lucy’s hamper with some of Lucy’s panties and brassieres, figuring that she’d help out because she was doing a load of whites anyway. Gerald swore. But his words were borne away by the driving wind.
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