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. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. “Do come and cheer me up. Nevertheless, Ann Veronica found it a difficult matter not to think of these things. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. I'm not sure I'd go out with him anyway. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely.
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