The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. I don’t want a family in the suburbs and Christmases at the Florida house and summers at the Hamptons. If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him. ‘That I do not yet know. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured.
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