If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. These interests her world promptly, through the agency of schoolmistresses, older school-mates, her aunt, and a number of other responsible and authoritative people, assured her she must on no account think about. shouldn’t be friends.
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