The Widgetts talked with a remarkable absence of external coverings; the Palsworthys found all the meanings of life on its surfaces. The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. My, um, my curfew. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was.
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