He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. She stopped eating. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad.
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