“My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily. In the hall below she could hear his firm voice giving quick commands to the servants. Bête, she told herself fiercely. ’ Releasing her, he turned and walked swiftly towards the door. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek.
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