He jumped back, cursing. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. The will to live had returned. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do.
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