Many little things had contributed to that decision. We had no idea. “I’m not gentle. And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well born as Thames Darrell. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. It would be too mortifying. 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.
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