“That was a moment of madness,” she said. Rank ingratitude, I call it. “You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again. You get one, you get them all. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. ‘But there is something still I do not understand. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. Last time— you made me feel snubbed. Mr. " "But what, in God's name, possessed you? You have already wrecked your own life and now you've wrecked hers. ‘Pitiful. I struck him across the face, jumped out and went back by train to Paris. “Odd!” she said. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910.
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