She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. "Your worry is needless. ” “Were you sexually abused? Was it a miscarriage?” “No. This is not what I want. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street.
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