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“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. Opals. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. . “I shot him. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. They are born idiots, incurably insane.
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