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LUNCH
"How late you are," she called again, "how late you are! Did you have a puncture, or what were you doing?"
She pushed back her chair with a grating sound along the tiled floor of the verandah, and stood looking down bright-eyed at his weary, passive, disillusioned face.
"I was right," she said, "there are two sorts of egoists, and I am both."
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