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Presently McClintock came in. She got pregnant. I’ve wanted you—always. ‘I’ve had enough of this. ” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex. “Am I becoming reasonable or am I being tamed? “I’m simply discovering that life is many-sided and complex and puzzling. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. Cut it as short as you can. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly.
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