He was a just man, and he did not care to start any thunder which was not based upon fairness. Mr. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. 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. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil.
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