Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back.
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