It was dawn: Cathy would soon be off to the restaurant and Larry off to paint a house. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Then he sensed the trap. About this conception of ownership he perceived and desired a certain sentimental glamour, he liked everything properly dressed, but it remained ownership. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared.
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