73 < 10 > AT HOME, 1982 Lucy woke up the next morning with Shari’s slow sonorous breathing only a few feet away. Such stories were increasingly heard in English society. “Have you told anybody else?” Lucy asked. ‘If ever I met such a pair of lunatics!’ ‘Give me that, Hilary,’ Gerald said at once, ignoring his remark and reaching out for the handkerchief. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. She was a little paler than when she had come to London, a little paler and a little thinner. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony.
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