’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. Do not mistake me. His eyes closed. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments.
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