Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. “I want some advice,” said Ann Veronica. “But you’re dating Mike now, and I’m dating John. How dreary it all looks. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away.
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