He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. They have no amenities, they scratch the mellow surface of things almost as if they did it on purpose; and Lady Palsworthy and Mrs. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all.
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