Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. Rhea writhed and scuttled about like a crab. She could no longer wait. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. Get all ready for his reception.
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