‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. "Will that do?" he added, returning it. "All's bowman, my covey. I can’t love you. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. The noise was raucous.
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