Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside.
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