He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. I tell you this child would have been strangled. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. He’s got flowers. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. (“Good job. Ovarian cancer. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing.
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