Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. Sheppard. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. “Where?” “To that ball. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. On the contrary.
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