Finger to his lips, Gerald pointed in the direction of the noise. “I heard they came from somewhere outrageous. Purney, the present ordinary of Newgate. But I waited in vain. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. Beneath that tree let us lie.
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