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She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. ‘She ought to be. You seemed complete—without that. " With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. ‘I am done, Gérard. I loved her and made love to her, and I don’t think she quite loved me back in the same way. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense.
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