” “It is all the world to me. Until now none of her prayers had ever been answered. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. ” “Nice clean hardness, anyhow. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere.
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