Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. I am bored to distraction. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. Quick, now. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. Other things came. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him. ‘Ask him. ’ ‘But—’ ‘You’ll get her all over blood again.
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