“I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. 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. He was aware of trying to scream because he was paralyzed and his legs would not move. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him.
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