Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together. They were only passers-by. “P. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome.
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