His brows drew a little nearer together. ‘She wants you. G. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. . “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters.
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