. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. "Take my life, if you're so disposed. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. And empty. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. It engulfed them in black, white, and gray.
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