The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Kevin Barry Reads V. S. Pritchett

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

I've Come Troit, and I Could Save Him

She deflates as she understands the truth of her relationship with william. But at the same time, she's inflating because she's feeling very clever. The wife of my lover calls around, and i've taught on my feet,. And hive actually made her feel better about herself. I mean, she feels, i guessor. She's telling herself, i got away with it.

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