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ONE MAN'S AMBITION Bertrand Chandler THE ROOM WAS quiet, save for the murmur of light music from the radio. The room was quiet with that quietness possible only when there are two people together. It was not the stillness of affectionate companionship, however; it was the deceptive serenity that should have as its background music the ticking of the time fuse, the sputtering of the slow match. They were reading—she sitting in her armchair, he in his. He put his book down on his lap, filled and lit his pipe. She coughed as the cloud of acrid smoke reached her. "Must you," she demanded, "smoke that foul thing?" “I like it," he said. "Other men," she complained, "smoke good tobacco." "I smoke what I can afford," he told her. "Cheapness!" she flared. "Cheapness! Cheapness! Ever since I was fool enough to marry you there's been nothing but cheapness! A cheap flat in a cheap town. Cheap food |
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