\"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. She turned there and beckoned. ‘Who have lately joined us,’ she said, adding sotto voce, ‘A very great tragedy.
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