She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. I’m a little tired. Why had he glanced up—quite in that way?. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours.
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