Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. “Is that plain?” she asked. “No you don’t!” said Ann Veronica, and walked out at a brisk and businesslike pace toward the house. I'm trying to make you see the worldly point of view, which always inclines toward the evil side of things.
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