. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. “Indeed!” Anna answered indifferently. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. . She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Here was a thundering blow.
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