It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. ’ The questions that had long haunted her came out at last.
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