Isabel looked at her. “God,” Eva said, a sob. And then, all in a blurry rush: “I don’t, I don’t want to be rid of you, but what can we do, Isabel? What can we have? Louis is—The house—Isabel, can’t you see? In the end there will be nothing. Can’t you see how it’ll be just—” “I can’t,” Isabel said. “I can’t see. There must—” A car approached. Eva swallowed a word, an exclamation, turned away, went to arrange her face with her back turned to Isabel. Isabel took a step, took her elbow, said, “Don’t leave us. Eat with us, please, don’t leave me with him, stay, you must stay.” “I can’t,” Eva said.
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