Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. " "I'll bring you an armful this afternoon. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past.
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