On The Long-Winded Lady

Maeve Brennan, p. 132

Maybe he was only doing what we often do when we are alone in public: hide our faces by pretending an interest in whatever presents itself — anything as long as it cannot stare back. I do not know.

97th / 100

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I hate when people talk esoterically in quotes & metaphors & poems and they expect you to interpret it. So there you go, interpret that how you will...

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