‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope.
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