It’s past ligime. You don’t  us to get fined?’

    At t s me go, and I  out and scs on, but anding tters, mine and tor’s on table in front of  a little of my nerve back, and I ry:

    ‘Listen,  ick about thing.’

    ‘I’m sure YOU could explain anytion is wher I’d believe you.’

    ‘But you’re just jumping to conclusions!  made you e to tel people, anyway?’

    ‘It  turned out.’

    ‘O? So you don’t mind letting t blasted o our private affairs?’

    ‘S need any letting in. It o to tell , you see. S you, George. So  like you.’

    ‘But, hilda—’

    I looked at e under t does w rue!

    And Gos I could see a it’s like. tly nagging and sulking, and tty remarks after you te, and ting to kno’s all about. But  me doal squalor, tal atmospo Lo even be conceivable. t  t. If I spent a o o Loo be fading out of my mind. o Lo seemed meaningless. Not gas bills, sche office on Monday.

    One more try:

    ‘But look  you t you’re absolutely o you you’re wrong.’

    ‘Oo tell all those lies?’

    No getting a, of course.

    I took a pace or tosrong. ?  ture and t, seeing t ture and t don’t matter? ever motives I miger-alin, bombs, macrunc , all fading out. Not a vulgar looshes.

    One last try:

    ‘ listen to me a minute. Look  know whis week, do you?’

    ‘I don’t  to kno’s quite enough for me.’

    ‘But das—’

    Quite useless, of course. Sy and noell me  migake a couple of er t trouble looming up, because presently it o o rip,