There is a musical programme, and we have the windows open and blinds up, and a pink lamp shade over the piano lamp—a sort of advertisement of the place, you know. Don't you remember? There were four of us, and we went touring in the city. Stanley decided to treat that as irrelevant. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere.
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