If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. 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. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. The woman shrugged her shoulders.
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