Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. But for me it doesn’t matter. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. 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. An ancient smile lay on his lips. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say.
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