‘I thank you. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. With people of that sort all sorts of things may happen. “I’ll ruin your suit. He relayed many details of the location and the beautiful rivers of her home, a subject she never tired of. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. Even the love of a mother does not sway him.
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