As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. If Ray left the house, it would be easy. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. He rose slowly and extended it.
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