“Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. What about your luggage?” “I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. I am certainly no ghost. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. ” “When?” “At tea. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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