The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. I haven't forgotten her previous history. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. .
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