It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. Chuck had did himself in because Chuck was a flaming homosexual. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. They stood back together and stared at it. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were.
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