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. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. "Is it wrong, then, to surrender to good impulses?" "In the present instance, yes. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it.
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